


Springfest '20

by caratlikecarrot



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Working Adults, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Lee Jihoon | Woozi-centric, M/M, One Shot, Seoksoon if you squint, Strangers to Lovers, finding happiness, implied depression, jihancheol if you squint, junhao if you squint, perhaps a special chapter can be unlocked?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caratlikecarrot/pseuds/caratlikecarrot
Summary: Being self-employed sounds kind of nice right? Creative freedom, working from the comfort of your own home, setting your own hours. But Jihoon has shut himself away for too long. Friendships have strained, loneliness has crept in, and a change is needed. Luckily for the music producer, his friends have got him a new gig as the music director for their town's annual changing of the seasons festival, Springest. That's where Mingyu, an extremely handsome and cheeky event coordinator, comes stumbling into Jihoon's life. On paper the job is great, but Jihoon's thumping heart makes him ask, "What have I signed up for?"
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: First Love Late Spring





	Springfest '20

Sunlight streams through the window. Too bright to bare any longer, Jihoon lets out a groan and unsuccessfully attempts to wipe the grogginess of sleep out of his eyes. He checks his phone. 12:43 PM, 16 unread messages, 3 missed phone calls. He lets out another groan. Sluggish, Jihoon heaves himself out of the warmth of his bed and onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom. Greeted with his reflection, he studies himself. An unkempt black mop of hair that has given up with cooperating, dark bags hanging under his tired eyes, and stubble that he really should get around to shaving.

**Brrrriinnggg!**

Interrupted by the ringing of his doorbell, Jihoon trips over dirty clothes and crumpled up song lyrics, making his way to the front door of his small studio apartment.

“JIHOON! YOU BETTER NOT STILL BE SLEEPING!”

He opens the door. “Damn it, what do you wan—”

“Hi Jihoon!”

Greeting him with a smile from ear to ear, Jihoon’s longtime university friend, Joshua, alongside his less smiley hyungs, Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Pushing past him and into the untidy apartment, Jeonghan’s face scrunches up in obvious distaste as he kicks around some rubbish. “Check your phone, will you?” he quips. The tension is thick and awkward, cramped between the clutter of the apartment.

Jihoon clears his throat and Seungcheol speaks up, peaking behind his dark bangs, “Jihoon-ah, I know you haven’t _really_ given us a definite answer about the musical directing position for Spring Fest yet but—”

“I said I’ve been busy.”

Jeonghan scoffs. “Yah! You know how much we care about you Jihoon, but these days it’s like we have to walk on eggshells around you. We found you this great gig, something to expand your horizons as a musician, so yes, you are doing it.”

“What he means to say,” Joshua pipes in, nudging Jeonghan in the side, “is that we know you’re not happy like this.” He gestures to Jihoon’s workspace, cluttered with scrapped idea after scrapped idea. “The whole work-from-home-freelance-producer thing sounds great, but in the long run it’s just not working out.”

Jihoon looks defeated. He’s right. They’re right. Jihoon thought being able to be an at home producer would be awesome. I mean, _come on_ , he gets to be his own boss, have creative freedom, and sleep in as much as he wants. But, it’s too suffocating. How can he create music for a world he keeps himself shut away from?

“I’m sorry.” He speaks up, finally breaking the silence, and the tension. “I know you guys are right, but actually taking that step feels so hard.”

Seungcheol looks visibly nervous as he fumbles with the strings on his hoodie. “Uh, yeah, so what I was trying to say earlier, was that we already kind of maybe applied _for_ you, and the event company in charge of Spring Fest may have written back already, gushing over your portfolio, and they might also be sending an event-coordinator-guy to your apartment later to get you to sign off on some documents so they can officially hire you for the position…” His voice dwindles off, getting quieter and quieter.

**“CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!”**

Jihoon takes a deep breath and sits down on the edge of his bed, crumpling the sheets between his fingers. Jeonghan’s face softens, and he takes a seat beside Jihoon, hand placed gently on his back.

“Jihoon-ah, we wouldn’t have signed you up for this if we didn’t think you could do it. Your friends know you more than you think. Trust us once in a while, yeah?”

Jeonghan’s voice is gentle and reassuring. That’s the thing about Jeonghan, as soon as he sours, he sweetens. Always keeping his loved ones on edge, always doing what’s best for them. There’s a beat of silence as Seungcheol and Joshua figure out how to provide their support for Jihoon. A hand on the shoulder. A tousle of the hair.

Jihoon let’s out a sigh of defeat. “I trust you guys. I’m in.” Not exactly a man of many words, but his friends know how hard it is for Jihoon to admit someone else is right.

The trio’s faces all light up. Seungcheol bares a gummy smile and claps his hands together excitedly as Joshua begins to excitedly pester Jihoon.

“Yay! This is going to be super fun! You’ll get to work with all your friends,”

“eugh. Friends.”

“Meet new people,”

“Gross. People.”

“And get to try all the yummy foods from the snack stands!”

“I’m listening.”

The group erupts in a fit of laughter. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. Jihoon’s eyes dart to the old clock on the wall, the one that came with the apartment, above the kitchen sink. 1:16 PM.

“Uh, hey guys?” There’s a furrow in Jihoon’s brow, “What time did you say that guy was coming over?”

“Well considering all of us caterers have a mandatory meeting with the event coordinators at 2:00,” Seungcheol starts, “He’ll probably want to stop by before then… so let’s say 1:30?”

**“CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!”**

Jihoon jumps up, finger pointed menacingly between Seungcheol’s eyes as Joshua quickly intervenes, grabbing the older by his shoulders and walking him towards the door. “Well, I guess we better be going then!” He shouts, smile sheepish. Jeonghan picks up the trash he had kicked earlier and disposes it into the bin before facing Jihoon.

“Jihoon-ah,”

Jihoon grunts in response.

“I believe in you.”

The slightest hint of a smile flashes across the younger’s face.

“And you should probably put some pants on.”

◊

And with that, Jihoon is alone yet again, with no one but his shadow, his tiredness, and approximately 15 minutes to eliminate all evidence of him having lived a day in the apartment. Oh right, he’s also not wearing any pants.

Okay, first things first: make the place look decent, and not like the inside of a frat house after a party. Jihoon sprints towards the sink where he keeps the garbage bags in the cupboard below, and races frantically around his apartment stuffing anything and everything into the bags. He grabs a bottle of Windex and figures it should be able to finish up the job, spraying every surface of furniture in sight, leaving the whole room with a sort of sickly chemical smell. “I’m sure this is fine.” Jihoon mutters under his breath, unconvincingly.

Jihoon checks the clock. 1:23 PM. Seven minutes left. Jihoon catches a glimpse of his reflection on his fridge and remembers the state of his appearance. Damn it. There’s not enough time to make it all the way to the dumpsters. He has to think fast. Comically, Jihoon wrestles the garbage bags into the bathroom, and stuffs them behind the shower curtain. He prays that this guy won’t ask to use the restroom. The way Jihoon is scrambling around his apartment is like a cartoon. If it wasn’t for the pressure of time, it would almost be funny. Almost.

Finally, Jihoon heads over to the full-length mirror hanging from his wardrobe and checks out his appearance. Damn it, there’s a toothpaste stain on the collar of his shirt. Maybe he can get rid of it with a splash of water, a splash of water that accomplishes nothing but spreading the stain around and leaving him with an even more noticeable water stain. ‘Never mind that,’ Jihoon thinks to himself. He pulls on what was once his favorite pair of jeans, noticing how tightly they seem to hug at his waist these days. Jihoon lifts up his shirt and eyes his midsection, analyzing the way his stomach protrudes over his jeans as opposed to when he first bought them. He doesn’t really mind. He wonders if other people mind. He wonders if his friends gossip about his weight behind his back, if his family thinks that he has “let himself go,” if a potential partner may find him unattractive for it. Jihoon looks away. He pretends to have not thought that.

**BZZZZZZZ!**

Jihoon takes one last look at himself, smoothing down his hair and slides across the floor towards the front door. He exhales, hand hesitantly turning the doorknob. And for the first time in a long time, he decides to take a risk and throws caution to the wind.

“Hello!”

Jihoon’s eyes scan upwards to where the voice had come from – a much too enthusiastic voice from a much too tall man. He ignores the slight falter in the man’s smile – surprise – as if he wasn’t expecting someone like Jihoon to open the door. The man extends his hand. “Kim Mingyu, I’m the Entertainment Event Coordinator from Diamond Events working with Spring Fest?” He says it like it’s a question, like he’s still not sure if he’s talking to the right guy.

Jihoon clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. You can come in.” He turns around, unease sets in as he leads a stranger into his kitchen/bedroom/workspace/personal hell. Mingyu bonks his head on the door frame. Jihoon doesn’t notice.

“I do the same thing!” Mingyu gestures to the collection of plastic water bottles that have been piling up on Jihoon’s bedside tables. Jihoon curses under his breath, not realizing he had missed a spot when “cleaning.”

“Oh,” Jihoon lets out a nervous chuckle, “uh, yeah.” A beat of silence engulfs the room, settling between the awkward tension radiating from Jihoon. He wishes he could go back to hibernating under his covers. More than that, he feels bad for this poor guy. He’s got no idea what kind of disaster he’s dealing with here. Perhaps by Jihoon’s appearance though, he probably does.

Mingyu had begun shuffling through his satchel and sorting through paperwork, giving Jihoon a chance to take a better look at him. His face was young and smooth – no signs of stubble, acne scars, or aging ( _unfair,_ Jihoon thinks), his dark, well-coifed hair was trimmed and styled, and his polo shirt was both creaseless and toothpaste-less. Jihoon finds himself thinking a lot about what this guy, and others, may be thinking about his own appearance today.

“Okay!” Mingyu breaks Jihoon’s spiraling train of thought, “First things first, I am so thrilled to have received your portfolio, Mister Lee.” Jihoon winces at the formality, is he really getting that old? “Your references are impressive, along with your education,” He squints his eyes, scanning the document in hand, “-a master’s in music technology!” Jihoon feels his face getting hotter. He doesn’t do well with compliments. Mingyu puts the file folder back into his bag and puts his hands on his hip; His expression reads _I can’t believe this grumpy, nervous slob is as accomplished as he is._

“My company has been working Spring Fest for the past couple of years, when I was an intern, and the best Music Director we could get was the music teacher from the local high school! Mingyu shines a toothy smile – a genuine smile, not like the smile the pizza delivery girl gives Jihoon when she shows up to his apartment, 20 minutes after the pizza was supposed to arrive, and has to give it to him for free. No, it was a smile that said, _I genuinely enjoy the company of others and I hope you do too._

“So, is this your first time being in charge then?” Jihoon finally speaks up, “I mean, in charge of, what was it, entertainment?” Mingyu’s ears perk up and his hands drop from his hips in a relaxed manner, “It is! I graduated school in the fall and was offered a permanent job at the company. After months of begging, my boss finally agreed to let me be in charge for Spring Fest. That is why I am _so_ relieved to have received your application… even if you haven’t ventured into this particular realm of work yet.”

Jihoon shifts side to side. Suddenly he feels very unqualified for the position, standing in front of someone so young and proactive. “About that, I uh, I don’t know how uh, qualified I am for the position…” _Nice Jihoon, everyone knows you’re supposed to tell the job interviewer how you shouldn’t get the position. _“I mean I just,” He takes a deep breath, “I’ve never been in charge of managing something like this before. I’m used to more one on one, I-never-have-to-leave-my-house, producing gigs. I just don’t want you to think I’m someone I’m not.” Jihoon’s ears are bright red. He feels embarrassed for admitting this.

“Mister Lee,”

“Jihoon. I’m not _that_ old, kid.” His true colors are showing.

Luckily, Mingyu doesn’t miss a beat, or god forbid feel offense. “Jihoon _sunbaenim,_ ” He’s grinning widely now, “It’s okay. I can help you. We could do this together.”

Jihoon exhales in disbelief. “Really? Don’t you have more important things to do? You’d rather have to handhold some fish-out-of-the-water hyung than just rehire that music teacher?” Later that night he’ll probably wish that he hadn’t acted so unprofessionally, but for now, he can’t hold back his personality any longer.

Mingyu takes a step closer to where Jihoon was leaning against the kitchen sink. “I’d definitely rather work with “some fish-out-of-the-water hyung” than have to work with some geezer who hired his own amateur choir for one of the mainstage acts last year. And, if handholding is necessary, that’s fine by me.” He winks. Where did this smooth guy come from? Somewhere between the time Mingyu walked in ten minutes ago and now, the pair had decided that there was no reason to act any other way than themselves.

Mingyu holds out his hand again, “Do we have a deal?” Jihoon exhales and grabs Mingyu’s hand, “Deal.”

After signing some documents (without actually reading what any of them said), Mingyu bids adieu, mentioning that he’s late for a meeting, the same one Jihoon’s pesky hyungs we’re off to earlier.

“Wait,”

Mingyu stops in the doorway, pausing to hear what Jihoon has to say.

“You said I had impressive references? How is that possible? As far as I know, my friends only submitted my portfolio and reference-less resume.”

Mingyu turns his head, flashing one last canine-heavy smile, “Oh yeah I almost forgot,” There’s a smug twinkle in his eye, “I’m friends with Soonyoung.”

◊

It’s about noon when Wonwoo and Minghao show up at Jihoon’s door, donned in flashy pink tees printed with vibrant lettering reading, “SOUND CREW” and, “ART DIRECTOR” respectively. Jihoon looks his friend’s up and down through his groggy, sleep-filled eyes, “Oh dear god.” Minghao turns to smile at Wonwoo, letting out a giggle. “Please don’t tell me—”

“That these shirts are required to be worn by all Spring Fest staff and yes, we do have one just for you.” Wonwoo holds up an equally offensive replica of his and Minghao’s shirts, this time with the words “MUSIC DIRECTOR” splayed across the chest as if it’s shouting at no one in particular.

Jihoon reluctantly grabs the shirt and stuffs it into his backpack before shutting the door behind him and ushering his friends towards the parking lot. “What happened to Soonyoung? I thought he was driving?”

“Oh yeah,” Minghao giggles, again, “He’s decided he’s going to walk there. He’s been getting really into _walking_ lately.” Wonwoo joins Minghao’s laughter.

“What? What are you not telling me?” Jihoon huffs, not wanting to be left out of any potential gossip, especially gossip regarding one of their friend group’s more zany members.

“It’s Seokmin.” Wonwoo whispers as if Soonyoung could possibly overhear their conversation from wherever-the-hell he is. “He’s the whole reason Soonyoung is volunteering for Spring Fest anyways. He thinks we don’t even know, as if he didn’t decline our offer like a gazillion times and then suddenly when he finds out Seokmin is volunteering out of the pureness of his heart, he begs us to find him a spot _anywhere please! No really I’ll do anything!”_ Wonwoo whines, mimicing Soonyoung’s voice.

“That kid is too much.” Jihoon rolls his eyes, “But what does Seokmin have to do with taking walks?”

Minghao opens the driver’s door to his car, and moves some art supplies around in the back so Jihoon can get in. “Seokmin lives a few blocks away from Pledis Park so he’s been walking to work every day, and Soonyoung found it’s the best time for him to talk to Seokmin.” Minghao can hardly contain his laughter, “It’s kind of hard to flirt with someone when you’re cleaning up everyone’s garbage all day.”

Jihoon is bursting through the seams with his laughter, “I can’t believe you two. You guys made him a janitor didn’t you. Damn it guys, that’s evil!” The trio are having so much fun, Jihoon completely forgets that he’s on his way to his first day on the job, something he’s been thinking of ways to get out of all weekend. He knows once he gets into his work things will come easier, but he’s got a wildcard variable that he hasn’t quite figured out how it will be affecting the scenario. This wildcard is no one other than one Kim Mingyu, of course.

◊

As the trio pull into Pledis Park, Jihoon takes the opportunity to scout out what’s going on. The once inviting and calm grassy space that is the park, has been taken over with construction, littered with tents, and bustling with people in shirts that look very similar to the one Wonwoo and Minghao showed up to his apartment in earlier. Near the park entrance there’s a big banner that’s been hung up. Jihoon squints so that he can read it. “Spring Fest, Brought to you by Diamond Events.”

“Oh yeah, didn’t a coordinator from Diamond Events come to your place the other day?” Minghao snaps Jihoon out of his daze, “They’re technically the ones running this gig, but they’ve been really nice to all their out-of-company-hires like us.”

Wonwoo tugs on Minghao’s ear as he puts the car in park. “ _They’ve_ been really nice? Do you mean _Jun’s_ been really nice?” Minghao swats Wonwoo’s hand away. From the backseat, Jihoon can see how red the tips of Minghao’s ears are turning. “I have no idea who _Jun_ is, but if he’s got Minghao losing his cool, I’ve got to meet the guy.”

Jihoon’s quip was enough to ground Minghao and get him back to laughing with the group again. Together, they collectively take a deep breath to collect themselves before exiting the car. Minghao goes into the back seat to retrieve some of his supplies while Jihoon and Wonwoo stand around in the parking lot finding different ways to squint and shield themselves from the sun.

“Hey Jihoon,” Wonwoo’s voice is sincere, “It’s good to have you back.”

◊

As the friends head into the park, passing dozens of volunteers hurriedly pitching tents, painting signs, and setting up booths, their chatter is interrupted by a familiar voice.

“GUYS!”

Not three steps ahead of them is Soonyoung. He's practically panting with excitement as he puts his arms around his friends. Jihoon looks up to see another unfamiliar face alongside his fated foil, Mingyu.

“Dudes, this is Jihoon. Yes! He’s finally here to save the tragic Springfest setlist!” Soonyoung’s voice is loud and boisterous. It feels slightly different than normal, like he’s putting on a show for someone. The stranger introduces himself as Seokmin, (Ah, it all makes sense,) and reaches out to enthusiastically shake Jihoon’s hand. What is it with these incessantly cheerful guys that Springfest seems to attract?

Before Jihoon can even say anything, his friends are all pulled away from the conversation by a handsome man speaking Chinese, a guy with pouty lips, and an American looking kid. Jihoon stares at Mingyu. Why can't he make words come out of his mouth?

“You’re not wearing your shirt? Or did you not get one yet?” Mingyu looks like a disappointed puppy. “Oh,” Jihoon looks down at his feet, “Uh yeah I got one. I just—”

“Oh! If it’s not really your style, I get it.” In a flash, Mingyu is back to his usual cheerful self. “As long as you stick with me, no one will question your authority.” He pulls some sort of cheesy secret agent pose and Jihoon feels like his heart is trying to flutter out of his body.

Okay, Mingyu looks very handsome. Yet again his hair is gelled to perfection, protected from potential frizz caused by the ever-warming spring sun, and even his t-shirt is ironed and crisp. _Damnit, Jihoon why are you wearing sweatpants?_

“I’m so glad you’re here, Jihoon. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

◊

Mingyu brings Jihoon to the center of the park where a stage is being set up. He looks down to see that Mingyu had grabbed his wrist. Jihoon pulls away, cheeks flushed. “So,” Jihoon asks, “Is this the stage?”

“This is the mainstage,” Mingyu moves his arms around as if he’s presenting the winning prize on a game show, “We have three stages total. Mainstage, the kids’ stage, and a small stage being set up in the food area. Our job is simple: find the acts that will actually perform on these stages!”

“And what does this entail?”

“Well,” Mingyu leans against the row of folding chairs set up in front of the stage, looking Jihoon directly in the eyes, “It means listening to a lot of music, reviewing submissions from local bands and artists, and having fun!” Mingyu does a little dance. Jihoon cannot believe this guy is for real, he can’t help but laugh.

“Ohmygo—” Mingyu puts his hand to his mouth. He looks surprised? Scared?

“What? What did I do?” Jihoon says with a slight panic in his voice.

“No sorry it’s just. You caught me off guard. Um, it’s, it’s just your laugh… It’s uh, it’s really, uh, it’s cute.” Mingyu had a blush creeping over his cheeks. “I’m sorry that was probably—that wasn’t appropriate right? I’m sor—”

“No,” Jihoon stops Mingyu midsentence, grabbing his hands away from covering his face, “It’s okay.” Jihoon smiles at Mingyu, just for good measure. He hopes his smile says, _Wait, if this is what I think it is, I definitely am feeling the same._

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. It’s not uncomfortable, they’re both smiling, studying each other’s faces.

Jihoon has decided that his type is tall handsome guys who are dorkier than they look.

Mingyu has decided his type is short, slightly grumpy guys who wear sandals to work and forget to shave.

They have both decided that this is going to be the best Springfest ever.


End file.
